


The Warmth of An Angel's Wings

by EmiliaOagi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cabin Fic, Curses, Feels, First Kiss, Fluff, Gentleness, Huddling For Warmth, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In, WinCasWin, Wing Grooming, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiliaOagi/pseuds/EmiliaOagi
Summary: Pissing off a weather god is never a good idea. When one curses them with their very own blizzard, Sam, Dean and Castiel find themselves trapped in a cabin, forced to wait out the god's anger.Snowed in, with no electricity and no heat, Castiel offers a surprising solution for keeping the two brothers warm.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 108





	The Warmth of An Angel's Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Threshie,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threshie) the best beta I could have asked for.

They bang into the cabin, the two humans shivering as the cold wind practically blows them into the room, snow following. The angel follows, unaffected by the cold, but brow furrowed in concern over his friends as he forces the door closed against the gale force wind.

“You had to piss off a weather god, didn’t you,” Sam gripes at Dean, rubbing at his clothes and peeling off his snow-soaked jacket. “Did you really need that piece of pie?”

“It was pie, Sam, and I didn’t fucking know that some asshole god had staked a claim on it!” Dean shoots back, likewise peeling off a soaked jacket. “How the hell was I supposed to know he’d send the mother of all blizzards after us for a simple misunderstanding? You think I would do that shit on purpose?”

“You could have just not had pie for once,” Sam mutters.

Dean gives out an exasperated sigh. 

“Let’s just see if this place has any fucking heat.”

The god in question had sworn mightily at Dean after the hunter had unwittingly taken that last piece of pie. He’s been irritated enough at that theft, but had seemed to recognize the Winchesters and had gone off on a diatribe about their murdering of his cousins over the years. He’d identified himself as Boreas, God of the North Wind, and cursed Dean before vanishing in a puff of wind that sent all of the diner’s plates and cutlery clattering to the floor.

With nothing to do but wait to find out exactly what the curse was so they could undo it, Sam and Dean had finished eating. Then they and Cas had gotten into the Impala, with the intent to find a nearby motel and wait for the fallout while they figured out how to break the curse and kill Boreas, Greek God, North Wind, Ardent Lover of Pecan Pie.

About 15 minutes later, Dean had nearly wrecked the Impala when a sudden blizzard had appeared over them out of nowhere. They had crawled for a mile or so in the Impala, until Sam had spotted a driveway. Dean had parked the Impala as far into it as he could, but several feet of snow had prevented him from getting all the way to the cabin they could just see through the trees. 

They’d trudged through the snow, already built up a foot high with no signs of slowing, until they reached the cabin and entered.

Now the three of them look around the small cabin, which has only three rooms and, thankfully, a small bathroom. There’s enough dust to suggest that no one has been here in at least a year, if not longer. 

Dean heads to the kitchen first, opening the cupboards. “Hey, jackpot. We got plenty of canned food at least.”

“Nice,” Sam says, finding a thermostat on the wall and turning it on. “Looks like we’ve got heat as well as the fireplace. We should see if we can find logs, just in case.”

“We’d have to go outside for that,” Dean says. “I’m not sure I want to brave that again, do you?”

“I’ll check outside,” Cas says. “The snow and cold won’t affect me.”

“Well lucky you,” Dean mutters, and Sam shoots him a glare.

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam says, because one of them needs to be grateful.

Cas nods and exits. Snow blows in fiercely as he opens the door and despite his claim, the angel has some difficulty getting the door shut behind him.

“It looks worse out there,” Sam says, worried.

“It’ll blow over,” Dean says. “How long can the dude be mad about some pie anyway?”

Sam scoffs, incredulous. “Dude, have you met yourself? Besides, he’s a god. They hold grudges for centuries.”

Dean scowls as he digs through more cupboards. “We’ll deal with it.”

Sam rolls his eyes and goes to the third room. It’s a small bedroom with a single queen size mattress on it. There’s a closet with a few moth eaten blankets that Sam pulls out.

Dean comes in and looks at the blankets in disgust. “Seriously, how is our luck this bad?”

Sam gives Dean one of his patented bitchfaces, but refrains from saying a single word, tossing the blankets on the bed.

“Fuck,” Dean says when the lights go out a few minutes later. 

“You think it’ll come back?” Sam asks, clearly expecting a negative answer.

“Only if we’re very lucky.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighs. “The way today has gone? I doubt that.”

Cas comes in a few minutes later with several damp logs in his arms. His dark hair is plastered with snow, and as he sets the logs down by the fireplace, he turns to help the two brothers get the door closed one more time.

“The storm is worsening,” Cas tells them as they head back into the room

“Yeah, we guessed,” Dean says, gesturing to the darkened room. “Looks like we don’t have heat.”

“We’ll have to hope the spell wears off soon,” Sam says with a sigh. “I can’t even get a phone signal in here.”

“Fuck,” Dean says, and then sighs loudly before clapping his hands. “Well, we got food, we got a fireplace and some wood, a couple of blankets. We can ride this out.”

~~

Castiel makes a couple more trips outside to get more firewood, then joins the brothers by the fire. The Winchesters huddle near it, blankets draped over their shoulders and laps. Castiel settles behind them . 

The walls are not as well insulated as they’d hoped, and the cold seeps in. The two humans shiver. Castiel watches them, thinking over an idea.

“We should move the bed out here,” Sam suggests finally. “Or the mattress at least.”

“What, you want to share?”

“It would conserve body heat,” Sam says, clearly not pleased with the idea either.

Dean makes a noise of protest, but after another minute of shivering, he nods. 

“Okay. Fine.”

The boys stand and they head into the room to move the mattress.

Castiel comes to a decision. He cannot do much, but he can help at least a little. 

“Uh, Cas?” Dean calls from the other room. “You wanna help here?”

Castiel follows and helps them move the mattress. Then, as soon as the mattress is on the floor, he begins to remove both his trench coat and his suit jacket.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks, catching sight of him.

“I can help keep you both warm,” Castiel says. He offers the trench coat to Sam and the jacket to Dean. Mystified, both take the offered clothing, clearly seeing the practical value of the action.

“Thanks,” Sam says, “but I don't know how much that will-”

As Sam speaks, Castiel closes his eyes and focuses. With a loud whoomph! and a crack of thunder that rivals the sounds of the storm raging outside, Castiel brings his wings onto the material plane. Sam stutters to a stop, staring. Dean, too, seems to go slack jawed, blanket half dropped.

For a moment as they stare, Castiel becomes very self conscious of his wings. Burned, partially torn, with whole sections of feathers missing, they are not pleasant to look at. He begins to draw them out of sight behind his back, but no. He brought them out for a reason. And besides... the looks on the brother’s faces are not of horror or pity. They seem to be...amazed.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Dean says.

“I can help keep you warm,” Castiel repeats. “If you will allow it, I can help insulate you with my wings.” He demonstrates, taking a step closer, and (not without a little nervousness and hesitation that he conceals) he wraps one wing each over the two boys, embracing them loosely. He lets his grace burn hotter with the proximity, and hopes they can feel it. He will need to be closer for this to be more effective, but even at this range, it seems to help. He steps back.

“That’s, uh,” Dean says and then stops to clear his throat. “Awesome, thanks,” he finishes.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, “the bed is a little small for three people, but we can make it work.”

Dean jerks his head and stares at Sam for a moment,. Something passes between them, and then he too nods. 

They arrange themselves on the bed, the two brothers getting themselves all cocooned in their respective blankets. They lie on the edges of the mattress, leaving just enough room that Castiel can crawl into the middle and lay on his stomach between them, wings covering both.

It’s not as comfortable as it could be, but Castiel doesn’t quite want to disturb the brothers yet with what he thinks would be more effective. Instead, he tries to be quiet and let as much warmth radiate off him into their bodies as he can.

Gradually, they fall asleep. Castiel feels it, senses it as they both relax and their breathing evens. And as the night goes on, they both curl into him, and he tightens his wing embrace over them as much as he can. 

Castiel mediates while they sleep, and a smile graces his lips as he occasionally looks at the two of them. His boys, with him and under his protection in a different, more intimate way than before. As much as he worries for their well-being, he is perversely grateful to the winter god for giving him this brief moment.

The storm abates very little during the night, but it seems to lessen as the Winchesters sleep, only to renew as dawn breaks.

Sam wakes first, stretching slightly as he yawns. Castiel turns his head to face him. He meets Sam’s eyes as they open, the hunter looking startled for a moment before appearing to collect himself.

“Good morning Sam,” Castiel says, quietly so as not to disturb Dean on the other side.

“Morning Cas,” Sam says. They look at each other another moment, something odd flickering over Sam’s face. Sam turns his face away and starts to get up. Then he stops himself with a faint laugh. “Normally I’d go for a quick run but I suppose that’s not happening.”

“You could run around the cabin,” Castiel suggests.

Sam shakes his head. “Maybe if I get that desperate for moving.” He sticks a hand out of the blankets and winces. “Jesus, it’s cold.” He pulls his hand back under the blanket and stares at the ceiling.

Castiel watches him, unsure what to say, if anything. Sam seems to be debating the wisdom of getting up just yet, and Castiel encourages him to stay with a gentle pressure of his wings. His arms are still trapped at his sides, but with Sam awake, he manages to get his right arm unpinned and wraps it over the hunter to embrace him properly. Sam looks at him, and hesitates, then adjusts slightly so that he is more comfortable as well, one hand coming out of the blanket to curl around Cas’s forearm. It’s a pleasant moment that doesn’t last long.

Doing all this unfortunately has disturbed Dean, and the older Winchester briefly presses closer to Cas, having turned onto his side at some point, and then jerking away when he wakes. Cas turns his head to look at Dean, who has already moved away, looking somewhere between panicked and guilty. His gaze is sheepish when it finally meets Cas’s

“Good morning Dean,” Cas says to him. 

“You okay there?” Sam asks, amusement in his voice. 

“I’m fine,” Dean says, scowling briefly at his brother then glancing back at Cas before getting up. “Just not used to sharing a bed.”

"Really? Dean One Night Stand Winchester isn't used to waking up with other people?” Sam smirks as he sits up, yawning. Castiel lifts his wings, folding them as he too rises. 

“Oh shut up,” Dean says grumpily. He winces as the blanket slips off him and he wraps it tightly around himself again. “Coffee.”

The fire had gone out during the night, and Castiel hadn’t wanted to leave the boys exposed while he rekindled it, so the first order of the day is getting it going again. The boys do keep moving to keep themselves warm, and Sam does start to just run lightly around the room until Dean complains about the noise and about getting dizzy watching him.

They find a deck of cards in a drawer and though it is missing a couple cards they make due and play a game of Texas Hold ’Em to pass the time.

They have to teach it to Cas, but he catches on quickly, and to Dean’s horror, turns out to be very good at the game. Sam tries not to laugh at Dean’s consternation but can’t help it.

Dean quits after Cas’s third win, saying, “Dude you have got to be cheating or something.”

“Beginner’s luck?” Sam suggests, failing to keep the grin off his face. Cas’s lips quirk as well, very briefly.

“I’m just playing it how you told me,” Castiel says, hiding his own smile.

“Hmph,” Dean says. “Let’s play something else.”

They try another game that Cas is less good at, but he still manages to win several rounds. This time Sam is the one left unamused as he loses every single hand.

Then they stop and make lunch out of a few of the cans in the pantry. They discuss whether or not to try and go out to the car for more supplies, but decide against it, as there really isn’t anything in it worth braving the snow for.

Castiel does try to go out to get more wood, but stops when he notices that the snow has reached a few feet deep. It would be foolish to open the door again. They’ll have to hope that what he’s already gathered will be enough to last them.

“As soon as this blows over, we are going to find out how to kill that motherfucker and kill him completely dead,” Dean swears.

“We have to get out of here first,” Sam mutters.

“The storm should abate in a few days,” Castiel says, staring out the window. “Boreas has a violent temper, but he should get bored enough to let up soon.”

“You know him?”

“I know stories,” Castiel says. “I’ve never met him. We almost never interacted with the lesser gods.”

Sam considers him, and looks at Dean.He shrugs, casual but clearly interested as well. Sam gestures for Castiel to join them. Dean scoots over so there is enough space between them for the angel to sit.

“Tell us what you know? The stories and all,” Sam asks. “Please.”

“It’ll help pass the time,” Dean agrees.

Castiel sits between the brothers and lets his wings curl around both. It's not a full embrace, but lets the edges of the singed feathers draw heat towards the three of them.

He begins the tale of Boreas and his wife Oreithyia, moves on to tales of their children, and then on from him to other gods of winter and the winds. His knowledge is spotty in places, and limited only to the cultures he had spent time watching and the tales Metatron had dumped into his memory a few years previous.

Sam chimes in from time to time with his knowledge, filling in holes that Castiel lacks or mentioning stories that Castiel has not heard of. Dean chimes in with jokes and comments, and at one point has an entire tangent about tauntauns and Star Wars that leaves Sam laughing and calling his brother nerd while Castiel merely huffs quietly and smiles fondly at the enthusiasm.

Sam also spends some time examining Castiel’s wings, running his hands over the feathers while Dean looks on.

“These are amazing,” Sam says, tracing over the feathers with his fingertips. Sam is gentle, his touch more than soothing. Castiel sits very still, forcing himself not to show any reaction.

“They’re not much now,” Castiel says, brutally honest. “Before the fall, when they were whole-” He stops, and looks down. “They’re not much to look at now, I know.”

“They’re still amazing,” Sam says firmly. “Beautiful.”

“He’s not wrong,” Dean says, coming to join his brother behind the other wing. “They really are awesome.” He too touches the feathers, a lighter touch than Sam’s.

“Thank you,” Castiel says, voice a little rough, unable to hide the emotion in his voice. He closes his eyes as the brothers reassure him with their touch, and an impromptu and rather haphazard grooming of his feathers takes place.

Soon though, biological necessity forces Dean to leave, heading off to brave the cold cabin bathroom.

“Amazing,” Sam repeats softly, with a final touch, before he too rises.

~~

They’ve rationed their supplies and determine that they can eke out meals for at least a week before they run out. Dean hopes that will be enough. He doesn’t quite trust Cas’s assertion that the curse will actually wear off in a few days, but they have little choice.

That night before the brothers can lay down to sleep, Cas makes a suggestion to change the arrangement. 

“Last night was not optimal,” he says. “You should lay on my wings and I can better cover you that way.”

“You sure? That doesn’t sound comfortable.”

“I don’t need to be comfortable.”

Dean still seems to hesitate.

“Or one of you can take the other blankets and I will wrap the other in my wings,” Cas suggests, when Dean fails to properly respond in time.

Dean makes another noise at that. He’s panicking a little, because imagining that sends warmth that is not from the fire at all coursing through him, and the last thing he needs is to wake up with an awkward boner in these close quarters. Cas doesn't sleep, it could even happen in Dean's sleep, how embarrassing would that be...

“I’ll do it,” Sam says, rolling his eyes as he unwraps the blanket and passes it to Dean. “I’m sure it will be very effective.”

Cas lays down with Sam and they briefly adjust until they find something comfortable. They end up with Cas's arms wrapped around Sam's chest as well as his wings.

“Never been the little spoon before,” Sam says quietly, seeming content with Cas’s arms and wings folded around him in a cocoon. “Feels kind of odd.”

Cas hums, the rumble of his chest something Sam can feel against his back. 

“Perhaps we will try it the other way another time,” Cas says quietly, for Sam alone. “I like this, though.”

“Me too,” Sam admits with a small smile. He closes his eyes, content. He lets his hand rest on one of Cas’s. Their fingers intertwine, and Sam falls asleep, warm in the angel’s wings and arms.

Dean lays with his back to Sam and Cas, and feels far colder than he would like. Cold that has nothing to do with the winter chill and everything to do with the memory of Cas’s wings around him that morning. He forces the thought away, and huddles in his blankets, eventually falling into a fitful sleep.

~~

Cas likes holding Sam, and closes his eyes as he lays curled around the hunter. He breathes in the scent of Sam’s hair, which still retains a few traces of the shampoo the hunter favors. Castiel likes it. He resists the urge to bury his face in his hair, not wanting to disturb him. He does give in to another impulse though, letting his lips brush ever so lightly against the back of Sam’s neck. Sam sighs in his sleep and tightens his hold on Cas’s arms.

~~

When Sam wakes he finds he’s turned around sometime in the night and is laying on his stomach. He adjusts to his side and comes face to face with the angel whose wings make up the warmest and nicest blanket he’s ever had.

“Morning,” he says, softly.

Cas’s eyes are closed, but Sam knows he must be awake. Cas opens them, and smiles at him, expression fond. 

“Morning,” he says just as softly back.

Sam looks at him, and in that soft half sleep dazed waking state where thoughts are free and less restrained, he acts without thought and kisses Cas. He pulls back, a faint note of “oh no” beginning to go through him, but Cas doesn’t pull away, or even look upset. Instead, his hand comes up Sam’s back, holding Sam to him. Cas looks at Sam like he’s been given a gift, before he returns the kiss, just as chaste.

Sam closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Cas’s; Cas tilts his in answer. Their noses brush and Sam falls asleep again soon after, to the gentle caresses of Cas’s hand over his hair and back.

~~

Sam wakes again, the angel still curled around him, but without the hands in his hair. Cas’s gaze and smile is fond as Sam opens his eyes, but when Sam hears the door to the bathroom open and shut, he understands why.

“I hope that was okay,” Sam says, when it’s clear that Dean isn’t in the room. He doesn’t say what, though, just in case, and keeps his voice low.

“Yes,” Cas says, already knowing the meaning. He leans in and kisses Sam again. This kiss is far less chaste than the others, and though Cas has lifted a wing slightly for privacy, they still break apart when the sound of the toilet flushing comes from the other room.

They share a mutual look of flushed enjoyment and disappointment, then Sam gets up just as Dean reenters the room. He takes the last clean set of his clothes with him and changes, the traces of Cas’s stubble and soft lips against his lingering like ghosts on his skin for a few minutes more.

~~

Dean is grumpy and mopey for most of the morning, the coffee they have made in the kettle over the fire doing little to fix his mood. It’s obvious to both Cas and Sam that he didn’t sleep well. They exchange glances, but say nothing. 

He cleans every weapon they have with them twice out of restlessness before suggesting they play cards again. His humor returns when they play Texas Hold ’Em and he wins three out of four hands. The other two say nothing, but silently know they let him win.

Come nightfall, when they are ready to sleep again, Dean asks, sounding awkward and with a faint flush, “Can we switch?”

“What?” Sam asks.

Dean doesn’t look at Cas, but says, “The blanket thing. You take those tonight and Cas can, uh, spoon me, I guess.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, surprised as much at the choice of words as Dean’s giving in. 

“That’s fair,” he agrees. “Cas?”

“Of course.”

Sam can’t deny disappointment as he wraps himself in the two blankets, but he accepts it easily enough. There will be other nights.

~~

Castiel wraps his arms and wings around Dean as loosely as he can, feeling the tension in the hunter’s body. Dean is nervous and scared, and Castiel really should not be surprised, but it’s faintly annoying. 

“Relax,” he says as quietly as he can, so that only Dean can hear him.

“I know,” Dean says, just as quiet. “It’s just…” he trails off and then half shrugs, the movement awkward.

Cas slowly lets his wings tighten around Dean. He tries to exude calm and patience. By slow increments, Dean does eventually relax before finally falling asleep.

~~

Dean dreams in the night. Castiel is tempted to visit him there, contenting himself instead with listening to Dean’s indistinct muttering. Dean twitches, and his breath huffs out. Whatever the dreams are about, they seem to disturb him. Castiel rubs his thumb over Dean’s arms where he holds him, wanting to soothe the hunter.

Dean rolls over as he dreams, facing the ceiling, his eyes flickering rapidly under his lids. His breath speeds up, then evens out. Dean stirs awake faintly, and asks, voice bleary with sleep but with urgency, “Cas?”

“I’m here,” Castiel says.

Dean turns his head, and faintly opens his eyes to look at him, then seems to relax. 

“You’re okay,” he sighs, eyes closing again. “Good.” The words are slurred and barely audible, and Dean is asleep again in seconds.

Castiel wonders what that dream was.

~~

Even before he opens his eyes, Dean feels safe. He curls his fingers into the soft feathers of the blanket around him, then faintly remembers that it’s not a blanket but wings. That the solid weight at his back is Cas, the arms around him Cas’s, the fingers stroking his arm ever so faintly Cas’s.

The fingers stop just as he notices them.

“Good morning Dean.” The air from the words ruffles the back of Dean’s hair at the nape of his neck and he shivers, but not from cold. “You okay? Are you cold?” Cas immediately asks, his wings seeming to tighten around him. The additional breaths don’t help, but Dean seeks to assure Cas.

“I’m fine,” he says. “You’re very warm.”

Cas’s wings relax slightly. “Good.”

Dean lays there, letting himself be held, just tired enough to not care anymore about appearances. He wonders, then, what the point of his old pretense was, because this...this is wonderful.

So he lets himself relax further into Cas’s embrace and tries to sleep again. It doesn’t come, but he does drift in and out of that half wakeful half dozing state that he rarely gets to enjoy. Their life doesn’t allow much for mornings like this.

“How long you two going to lie there?” Sam asks eventually, and Dean opens his eyes and looks up to glare at his brother. “I’m not complaining, mind you, but I’d like to know if you expect me to eat this entire can of peaches myself.”

Dean groans. “Go away, Sammy.”

Sam gives him the oddest look, then glances at Castiel, before with an odder smile he shrugs and turns away. “Your loss.”

Dean buries his face in Cas’s wing for a moment, and rolls over. That brings him face to face with Cas, and he stares at the angel as if the blue eyes gazing calmly at him were headlights and he a deer. Dean swallows, unable to break the gaze.

Cas tilts his head ever so slightly as if questioning, and Dean comes back to himself. “Guess I should get up,” he says, uncomfortably aware of the direction his blood is flowing.

Cas lifts a wing slightly, but he doesn’t drop the gaze. There is curiosity there.

Dean licks his lips and Cas follows the movement. His gaze lingers just a little too long and Dean swallows again.

“What do you want?” Cas asks softly.

You, is the answer Dean thinks without prompting. He means to shove it back but can’t. He knows he didn’t speak, but perhaps Cas read his mind, because he seems to understand. Dean can’t make this move, it’s too big. 

It is the desperate look in Dean’s eye at the question, the barest tightening of a hand on feathers, the stuttered heart beat against his chest that tells Castiel Dean’s answer. He hesitates, leans slightly forward, and watches for any sign that this advance is unwelcome. Dean’s heartbeat picks up, but he doesn’t move away.

Castiel presses his lips to Dean’s, gentle and chaste, unmoving until he feels the faintest pressure in return. His hand moves of its own accord to cup the back of Dean’s hair, even as Dean hesitantly, almost reverently lets his hands skate over Castiel’s arms.

When Cas pulls back, Dean finds himself embarrassingly start to chase after, but he stops and opens his eyes, the fizzing warmth in his veins not settling. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean says, half dazed.

Castiel’s lips quirk, and the expression in his eyes is as fond as Dean has ever seen them.

Dean opens his mouth to say something, make a joke perhaps. Instead what comes out is, “I really should get up.”

Castiel nods and lifts his wing all the way, releasing him. Dean is almost regretful, but he’s super pleased and happy anyway, and besides Sam is right there. So he gets up and goes over to find that Sam has not in fact eaten the food left out for him.

“It’s about time,” Sam says to Dean, not quite laughing. Dean knows he doesn’t mean about the food.

“Oh shut up,” Dean gripes. Grabbing a fork, he spears a peach out of the can.

The day goes much like the last few, with them passing the time as they can, but for Dean at least, some things are different.

Dean’s never been shy about touching Cas...well, maybe he has, but now instead of just clapping him on the shoulder and pulling away, he can let the touch linger, and become a proper caress.

When they play a round of cards, and Cas wins yet again, he gets that tiny satisfied smirk on his face. Dean stares at him for a moment then just as Cas notices his stare and starts to tilt his head in question, Dean leans forward and pecks him on the cheek.

Cas stares at him in surprise that gives way to a pleased crinkling of his eyes and pink tinge to his cheeks. Dean winks at him, which seems to make the flush rise.

A few rounds later, Cas gets his revenge, and when they have a staring contest daring each other to fold, Cas mimics the wink from earlier, flustering Dean, though he at least has the sense not to let that sway him into folding. He still loses the hand. 

Sam laughs at Dean’s reaction, as if having that gaze directed at him wouldn’t have undone him just as much. Sam enjoys the lightened company, with so much tension drained out of the air now. But while he is happy for his brother and Cas, Sam also wonders what that means for him. Perhaps yesterday was just a fluke. Something not to be repeated. After all, Cas was Dean’s friend first and there’s that profound bond thing. 

Sam takes his chance when Dean heads to the bathroom and tells Cas, “I’m happy for you.”

Cas looks at him, surprised. 

“Thank you?” He tilts his head, studying Sam. “What’s wrong?” he asks, then understanding dawns, but Dean comes out at that point and they don’t get a chance to talk until just before bed. 

“I love you too,” Castiel says, the second Dean is again out of earshot, and Sam gapes at him. “I love both of you.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.” Castiel looks at him, almost entreating him. “That was your worry, wasn’t it? That I want him only, not you. That’s not true. I want both of you, in equal measure.”

“I don’t know if we can do that,” Sam says, once his brain processes that statement. “Dean-”

There’s the sound of the toilet flushing, so Sam stops. He heads to the bathroom, and passes Dean without a word.

“Is it just me or has he been acting weird all day?” Dean mutters. 

“Sam will be fine,” Cas says, but he sounds distracted.

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, probably just frustrated with being cooped up.” Dean leans forward and takes the chance to kiss his angel. Cas kisses back very lightly, then he pulls back.

“You should take the blankets,” he says. “It’s Sam’s turn.”

“Oh. Right.” Dean tries not to sound to disappointed. It’s only fair, he reminds himself.

“Your turn tomorrow,” Cas reassures him. Cas kisses him once more, but pulls away before Sam comes back out.

Dean wraps himself in blankets as Cas wraps himself around Sam. To Dean’s surprise, it isn’t hard to fall asleep.

~~

Sam, however, is stiff in Cas’s arms at first. “Are you sure,” he mouths, turning to the angel, not daring to speak out loud. There’s barely enough light for him to see Cas’s face, but he knows that doesn't bother the angel.

“Yes,” Cas murmurs, barely loud enough for Sam to hear. The angel places a kiss on his forehead, then says into Sam’s ear, “You are worried about Dean. Don’t be. I will talk to him tomorrow. For now though, you should rest.”

Cas pulls back and Sam feels a hand on his cheek, gently stroking. Eventually he does relax and sleep. 

When Sam wakes, he finds Cas patiently waiting. Their eyes meet, then Cas kisses him a good morning and Sam can’t help but return it, warm and pleased, content. Then he remembers the situation and his stomach turns. Cas sees the change and tries to soothe him silently.

“It will be okay,” the angel murmurs, running his fingers through Sam’s hair.

Sam searches his face, and wonders. “I hope you’re right,” he says. And if Cas is wrong, if Dean isn’t okay with sharing, Sam will back out, and content himself with friendship. And just in case that does happen...

He steals a kiss from Cas, a long one this time. It’s a little desperate from Sam, but Cas doesn’t let it remain that way for long, turning it slower. There’s reassurance in his hands, still running through his hair, massaging his scalp, affection in his eyes as they pull apart.

“It will be alright,” Cas says again. This time, Sam is more inclined to believe him. To have faith.

They simply lay together for a time after that, exchanging brief words and lazy touches. Sam traces over Cas’s feathers, finding that sometimes Cas shivers under the touch, a fact which Sam files away for later investigation, should he get the chance.

~~

Dean wakes to find Cas has draped a wing over him while Sam is at the table eating. 

“Good morning,” the angel says.

Dean grunts and yawns. He stumbles over to find the coffee is all gone, groans, and does his best with water and some canned fruit.

The day is another boring one, cooped up in the cabin, the blizzard still raging outside. Sam seems distracted and out of sorts and Dean can’t really blame him.

Castiel spends the day thinking about Sam’s worries and Dean. He loves his boys, loves both of them enough that it sometimes hurts. And now he has tasted both of them, and he wants to continue tasting them. But Sam is worried.

He thinks of Dean’s reaction to the open marriage they had seen in the Fred Jones’ case. He thinks of how often he had seen similar things in cultures long gone, furtively hidden in cultures still here today. He hadn’t understood until now that that was because of the difficulty involved.

And yet, he cannot have one Winchester without the other, even if he only wanted one. Their bond is too strong. Even when they are apart, they always return to each other. He wonders if they realize that.

And he thinks that now he can only have both or neither. Sam would forfeit for Dean’s happiness. Dean would forfeit for Sam’s. But neither would truly be happy in either case. He just has to make sure they understand and agree. 

And he needs to make sure Dean shows Sam he is okay with this. Cas thinks he will be fine, at least in the end. He hopes he is right.

So, when Sam decides to steal a kiss while Dean is out of the room, Castiel lets him, and kisses him as thoroughly as he can, attempting to distract him enough he won’t hear Dean coming back. It seems to work, as Sam doesn’t pull away when the door to the bathroom creaks open once more.

When Cas opens his eyes to see Dean over Sam’s shoulder staring, he smiles, and waits to pull out of the kiss until Dean moves forward. Cas smiles at Sam, who quickly steps away as he hears Dean behind him.

Dean steps back into the bedroom for a second, to pretend he didn’t see that, and stares at the wall for two seconds, then comes back in as if nothing’s happened. 

Dean knows Cas saw him, though, and the angel hadn’t looked guilty, but...pleased. As if he was fine with Dean seeing that, even though he was supposed to be with Dean…

Sam is a little awkward for a few minutes after, seemingly guilty, but he doesn’t say anything, and they play their now usual card game in silence today. 

Cas is holding his wings in a curve to help hold heat around them, and he drapes his wings over both of the brothers’ shoulders as they play.

Dean thinks and thinks. Then when Sam finally goes uses the bathroom, he and Cas are alone and it’s his chance. Dean asks, not looking at Cas. “So. I couldn’t help but notice that you and Sam were, uh, close, earlier.”

Cas tilts his head, and Dean sees it in his periphery. 

“Was that not okay?” Cas puts his hand on Dean’s, dragging Dean’s gaze to him. Cas’s furrowed brow is just typical of the angel. He doesn’t get how weird this is, Dean thinks.

“I love both of you,” the angel says. “You both…” this time he hesitates, searching for the appropriate words, then goes on, “want me as well. And you and Sam are close-”

“We aren’t that close,” Dean cuts in, afraid of the path this is taking.

“I know,” Cas assures him. “I’m not asking for that.”

“So, what, you want to date both of us? At the same time?” Dean barely keeps himself from squeaking those words. This is insane.

Cas nods. 

“Is there some reason we can’t do that?”

Dean opens his mouth to say yes, but then Sam comes in again, and he shuts it. Sam wants Cas. And Cas wants Sam. But Cas also wants Dean. And Dean has wanted Cas for so long he’s forgotten when it started.

Dean stares at Cas, his brain working quickly. Maybe...maybe it could work. Dean can always cut himself off if it doesn’t. Sam deserves to be happy. So does Cas.

“No,” he finally says. “No reason.” 

Sam frowns. “Everything okay?”

Cas looks at him, and he has a very pleased look in his eyes that is almost triumphant.

“Everything is good,” the angel tells him.

Sam looks at Dean, confused, and Dean shrugs.

~~

A little later, Sam asks Cas, “What were you and Dean talking about?”

Cas actually smiles properly, one corner of his mouth lifting up. “Us. The three of us. You don’t have to worry,” he says, and kisses Sam. 

Sam pulls back. “Wait, he’s okay with it?”

Cas nods. “Yes.”

Sam stares at him, then he grins. “How the hell did you pull that off?”

“Not hell,” Cas corrects, and he is as pleased as a cat.

Sam kisses him, and when Dean walks in, Sam doesn’t stop until Dean coughs. Then Sam does suddenly feel a little embarrassed, but it seems to be okay.

Dean eyes them for a long moment, several expressions crossing his face. “You do know I get him tonight,” he finally says to Sam.

“I know,” Sam says. They exchange looks, Sam’s uncertain, Dean’s more so. But they know each other so well that after a few moments of that silent communication, they both relax, assured for the moment that they are both good with this turn of events.

Sam wraps the extra blanket around himself as Dean hands it to him and lays down, shocked at how well that went.

When he hears the quiet noise of a kiss next to him, and feels as Cas moves, he thinks this might be the weirdest relationship he's been in, but...it might just work. And he finds that as Dean and Cas whisper to each other, he doesn’t mind. Hell, he is happy for them. 

For all three of them.

~~

Dean wakes, opening his eyes to find Cas watching him “That’s still creepy,” he says, but there’s no bite to it.

“You don’t actually mind,” Cas says, matter of fact.

“Sure I do.” Dean makes a face at him, trying to look grumpy and annoyed. “I mind a lot.”

Cas’s eyes crinkle and he brings a hand to stroke Dean’s face. Dean leans into it, and then pulls Cas into a kiss. It's brief, but it’s pleasant, and Cas seems happy. 

They lie together for a while, and Cas has his wing up to give them the illusion of privacy from Sam, which Dean is grateful for. He and Cas don’t kiss again, just lie together until Sam coughs loudly and asks Dean if he wants breakfast. And he does, so he gets up.

Cas goes to the window. 

“The storm has lessened,” he says. He considers for a moment, then glances back to them. With a whoomph, his wings disappear, pulled back to invisibility. “I’m going to get more firewood.”

“Be careful,” Dean says automatically.

“Of course,” Cas says in that tone of voice that Dean suddenly realizes means “I love you”. He stares after him, a little flummoxed at that epiphany.

“You two are sickeningly sweet,” Sam comments to Dean.

“Shut up,” Dean says around a mouthful of pear. Then he points his fork at Sam. “And you shouldn’t talk. I saw you flashing those puppy dog eyes at him.”

Sam flushes. “It’s not that bad.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sure it isn’t, Samantha.”

They are quiet for a moment together, both contemplating the odd turn of events. Sam is the one who finally speaks. “We should...probably talk about this.”

Dean groans, but he knows Sam is right. “Fine. But nothing...sappy.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “No chick flick moments,” he says, “I know.” Then because he can’t resist.,

“Of course this entire setup is a chick flick so it might be a little late for that.”

Dean opens his mouth then, surprisingly, he laughs. “Fuck. It is, isn’t it.”

Sam grins. “Yup. Trapped in a cabin, only one bed, cuddling for warmth, romance ensuing. Very chick flick.”

“Complete with just enough complications to keep it interesting,” Dean says.

“Exactly.”

“‘Course those are usually a man and a woman. A single couple,” Dean says. “Not…” He stops.

“Two brothers and the angel they’re both in love with?” Sam supplies. He sounds a bit awkward as he says it out loud, and doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“Yeah, not usually that,” Dean says.

Silence falls.

“Are you really okay with this?” Sam finally asks. “Because if you want me to step back, I will.”

Dean looks at him in surprise. 

“I was going to say that to you,” he admits. He pauses and considers, because this is important. Then he nods. “Yeah, I think so. It’s...going to be awkward, but...I think so?”

Sam grins, and he looks relieved. “Good.”

“That said, I have zero interest in seeing you and him do anything that is not fully clothed.”

Sam wrinkles his nose. “Same.”

“And you’re sure you are okay with it?” Sam asks again. “The idea of both of us dating Cas at the same time?”

“I’m sure.” And Dean is. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Sam says, his tone firm and confident. 

Cas comes back in soon after, completely soaked in snow, with flakes in his hair, his white shirt damp and plastered against his chest. He drops the pile of logs by the door before he pulls it shut, then turns to see both brothers staring at him. Cas tilts his head in a question.

Sam and Dean share a look with each other, one that says, Damn aren’t we lucky. They grin at each other, all tension between them evaporated for the moment.

“Are you two okay?” Cas asks, and he squints slightly, brow furrowing.

For some reason, when Sam and Dean look at each other this time, they both laugh, which only confuses Cas more. Calming down enough to answer, Dean says, “Yeah, Cas. We’re good.”

“Yep,” Sam agrees.

~~

Cas brings his wings back out shortly after he brings the logs in, and when he comes to sit between them, his wing embrace is much tighter. As they talk, the brothers telling Cas about old hunts today, and ribbing on each other as much as usual, they sit closer, leaning into the warmth. Sam takes one of Cas’s hands and Dean takes the other. No word is spoken about that, no interruption made to stories of prank wars and and other childhood shenanigans.

That night when they get ready for sleep, Dean suggests that Cas lay between them as he had first suggested a few days before. “Might as well,” he says, and the way Cas’s eyes light up is worth it, as is the way Sam looks grateful.

Castiel lays down and both of his boys come and lie with him. He covers them with his wings as they snuggle against him. His arms are under them, one wrapped around Dean’s waist, the other around Sam’s shoulder.

Before they sleep, Castiel turns to Sam and kisses him lightly. “Good night Sam,” he says.

“Good night.” Sam says, with warmth and affection. 

Csatiel turns to Dean and kisses him. “Good night Dean.”

“Good night Cas,” Dean says, and looks content and pleased.

Castiel spends the night with his heart full to bursting, as he holds his two wonderful boys.

He wonders how he ever got this lucky. He kisses the top of each of their heads and lays back until morning.

~~

In the morning, the storm is all but blown out. The wind howls a bit, but the spell seems to be fading.

“We should be able to leave tomorrow,” Castiel tells them. “Boreas’s spell should be completely gone by then.”

“Thank god,” Dean says. “Another day in this place and I would consider burning it down.”

“For warmth or just for fun?” Sam asks.

“Both,” Dean says darkly.

~~

In the afternoon, the lights come back on. “Oh thank fuck,” Dean says at the same time Sam says, “Oh finally.”

Castiel puts his wings away soon after, once the heater has warmed up the cabin enough that they are no longer needed.

They move the mattress back into the bedroom now that it is warm enough to do so, and after a quick conference between the three of them, they decide that tonight they will do the same arrangement as before.

“Angel sandwich,” Dean jokes.

“Winchester sandwich,” Cas corrects, only the crinkling of his eyes indicating the humor behind them. Dean decides not to correct his definition about sandwich naming conventions.

~~

The next day, there is still snow, but enough of it has begun to turn to slush in the fall air for them to trudge out to the Impala. The further away from the cabin they get, the less snow there is.

“That was very localized,” Sam comments, in something between surprise, admiration and annoyance. 

“And a good thing too,” Dean says when they reach the Impala, which has only the lightest traces of wet on her. He runs his hands over her, checking that his Baby is okay. He makes plans to give her some good old TLC the second he has a chance. He removes the pan covering the exhaust pipe, then they toss their duffles in the trunk and get in.

They head back the way they came, returning to the gas station where this all started. Sam nearly cries with relief when he turns his phone back on and finds that he at last has a signal and wifi again. There are dozens of messages from fellow hunters and friends. He gets out of the car and leans against it while he answers every text, assuring everyone that they are alive and well.

While Sam is busy doing that and Dean fills Baby up, Castiel gets up to walk around the place. Being cooped up for so long has gotten to him as well.

There is an old man hanging out at the side of the station and upon seeing him, Castiel checks that the boys are busy then heads straight for the man. He drags him out of sight and pins him against the side of the station.

“What the fuck?” The man swears, and then his eyes narrow. “Angel,” he hisses, voice dripping with contempt. “What’s one of your kind want with little old me?”

“Your little blizzard nearly killed the Winchesters,” Castiel hisses, his blade pointed at Boreas’s heart. “I should kill you for that.” The wind around them picks up, blowing as cold as it had the past few days. The trenchcoat flaps wildly around him but the angel doesn’t move so much a millimeter.

The North Wind scoffs. “Your blade can’t do more than discorporate me for a time.”

“And you have no power over me, so you can stop with the wind,” Castiel says, voice still hard. The wind dies, and Boreas scowls harder. “As it happens though, your little vengeance had a few unintended side effects.” Castiel lets go of him and Boreas rubs at his collar. Castiel keeps his blade at the ready.

“And what are those?”

Cas resists the urge to look at his boys fondly, not willing to give the god any opening. “Love,” he says simply, letting the wind take that as he may. “And for that, I thank you. “

“Some thanks.”

“The thanks is letting you live,” Castiel says. “But if you ever come near the Winchesters again, it will be the last thing you do.”

“What, ‘cause you’ll kill me?” The North Wind is sarcastic. 

Castiel allows himself a smirk. “No. Because they will.” He steps back, lowering his blade but remaining ready. “You had best go before they wonder where I am.”

Boreas spits, a glob of ice forming on the pavement before melting. Then with a strong wind that sets everything loose around them spinning, he is gone. Castiel puts away his blade, returning to the Impala.

“Everything alright, Cas?” Dean asks. Sam looks over at him, the same question in his expression.

Castiel looks at his boys, and smiles. “Yes. It is.”


End file.
